


Stars

by blanchtt



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 22:58:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7776994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanchtt/pseuds/blanchtt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She reaches over to turn off the lamp on her beside table and, just a few moments after the room goes dark - “Are those … stars?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Cophine + O (The stars or space)

 

 

 

She reaches over to turn off the lamp on her beside table and, just a few moments after the room goes dark -

“Are those … stars?”

Her apartment is an amalgam of all the things she’s come into possession of circa middle school - the slow-moving lava lamp in the living room, the forever-clacking Newton’s cradle on her desk, the lovingly-framed periodic table over her bed. When Beth and Alison had lamented that she lived so far away and she had picked up and moved the next day, Cosima knew the little touches were the thing she couldn’t leave behind, clone crisis or no clone crisis. They  _made_  her bedroom - those decorations, and then the glow-in-the-dark stars she’d stuck on her ceiling.

“Yeah,” Cosima laughs, rolls onto her back sore and tired and happy and nudges Delphine’s bare hip with her own as she settles next to her under the covers. She looks sideways and, with Delphine busy looking up at the ceiling, allows herself to indulge, to drink in the sight of Delphine’s murky profile in the semi-darkness. “You like ‘em?”

Delphine points to a cluster of stars on the ceiling, tracing her fingers through the air. “The Pleiades,” she says softly, thinking, and Cosima nods. The ones in her room back home, like,  _home-home_ with her mom and dad, had been arranged haphazardly by her much younger self, stuck on the ceiling in no particular order. The ones in the apartment she’d shared with her last girlfriend had been a little more organized, evenly spaced swirls of stars that had made for pretty cool viewing in the dark. And then here, she had had a burst of creativity that had resulted in sitting on her bed with her laptop, researching constellations for ten minutes before settling on a few that had caught her eye.

“I thought it was fitting,” Cosima murmurs. The Seven Sisters. A physically related group of stars, no chance alignment.

Another soft laugh, and she feels more than sees Delphine turn, nestling against her side. Her voice is close and low as she rests her forehead against her temple, breathing quiet and even now. “How have I never noticed them before?”

“To be fair,” Cosima says, as Delphine’s arm slips around her waist in preparation for sleep, fingers splayed across ribs and thumb brushing just under her breast. “Staring at the ceiling isn’t something we usually do in my bed.”

 

 

 


End file.
